Cabin Fever
Log Title: Cabin Fever Characters: Spike Witwicky (SG) , Buster Witwicky (SG), Lowdown (SG), Ebony (SG), General Flint (SG), Temera (SG) Location: The Pit Date: January 12, 2010 TP: Shattered Glass TP Summary: After weeks of languishing in the Pit, Buster's nerves give out and years of taunting from his older brother are about to get a painful payback. Meanwhile, Lowdown is content in taunting the fate of both Spike and Buster in front of them. SG-Lowdown has connected. Spike Witwicky is doing pushups, singing rather loudly "I..stand…alone today - TODAY!" - who knows why. Maybe because Deadline slipped him a line of coke, maybe it's Spike's desperate attempt at attracting attention. The Brig appears to be Lowdown's new favorite hangout. And who could blame him? There's a naked lizard-girl hanging around. He's got his very /large/ M107 disassembled on the table and is cleaning and oiling all the components. Spike Witwicky continues to do push-ups. "...stand...alone today...TODAY!" SG-Lowdown starts to reassemble the weapon, slowly and methodically. He's used to captives making all kinds of ruckus, so he's not particularly put off by Spike's belligerent display. Once his weapon is reassembled, he racks the bolt back a few times to spread the lubricant more smoothly through its systems, "Nothin' like the smell of a freshly cleaned weapon..." General Flint (SG) has connected. Spike Witwicky pauses and hears Lowdown's voice, but due to his cell limitations, he can't ascertain where the voice stemms from. "Who said that?!" Buster Witwicky (SG) has connected. Spike Witwicky continues to do pushups, "I...Stand...Alone...Today - TODAY!" SG-Lowdown is down in the Brig. He's been spending a lot of time down there. Most recently, he's cleaned, oiled, and reassembled his M107. He slips his sunglasses back on before turning around, sighting down the back of the 5-foot-long rifle at the door to Spike's cell. "Ain't nobody here but us chickens." General Flint is in his office, glowering at reports. Buster Witwicky slouches on his bunk, scowling at nothing as he stares at the wall. Spike Witwicky turns around and regards Buster. He tries to get up, but an almost surgically-placed knee to the groin courtesy of Ebony prevents this. "Ow.." He yells at no one in particular "How much longer are you fucking going to hold us!" "I'm bored!" Spike says with a frustrated tone. SG-Lowdown picks his weapon and gathers his cleaning gear, slinging the weapon over his shoulder, "Not my call, chief. Why don't'cha use the time to detox?" He pulls out a cigar, lighting it as he passes by the Witwickys' cell, blowing some of the smoke in through the door. He's got a General to talk to. Spike Witwicky blinks and looks at Lowdown. "To what?!" Buster Witwicky mutters to himself, "... bored...." SG-Lowdown pauses and heads back to Spike's cell, "Repeat after me. Dee..." Spike Witwicky looks at Lowdown and scoffs. "I KNOW what it means." SG-Lowdown snorts, "Coulda fooled me, junky." He takes another puff of his cigar, blowing it into the cell. Spike Witwicky grins and says in a self-satisfactory tone, "Yeah? Well how come I haven't a line of coke in almost a month?!" Buster Witwicky mutters to himself, "... here," Spike Witwicky shrugs, "Serioulsly - I... I mean, we've told you all we know. All roads lead to Cain! Goldbug said I was weak, he went to Cain." SG-Lowdown pulls up a nearby table, just out of view from the Witwicky cell, "Shame that don't really mean anything..." There's the sound of Lowdown's rifle as it's set on the ground, then the sound of a small piece of glass being set on the metal table. Spike Witwicky looks over at his brother and gives a wink. If Spike's quiet enough, he might hear a small plastic back popping open and a modicum of powder pouring out. Spike Witwicky's head turns and his nostrils flare like a dog hearing a can opener. Buster Witwicky glances at his brother at the oddly familiar reaction. Spike Witwicky starts to look around for... something. He gets up, still favoring his groin. "Stupid bitch..." Buster Witwicky sighs. "What now, Spike?" SG-Lowdown has /very/ good hearing. Insanely good. Inhumanly good. The kind only money and experimental implants can achieve. "Yup. That Cain lead isn't really going to turn up a robot, is it, Spike?" There's a very clear sound of a blade cutting into powder, the edge tapping and scraping against smooth glass. Spike Witwicky frowns. "One of the chicks that hauled me in. She was hittin' on me, and then I find out she's a lesbian! All I did was ask her who was the girl in the relationship and she snapped for no goddamn reason!" Spike Witwicky looks at Lowdown and says "Look... I'm not perfect. But put yourself in Goldbug's position. Would you rather roll with a scrawny car thief or a roided-up maniac?!" SG-Lowdown chuckles, setting the knife down, "You really think we're gonna find that robot hangin' out with the guy who's nailin' your wife, Spike?" He wipes his knife off and slips it back into his sheath, "I got somethin' out here that might getcha ta reconsider..." Spike Witwicky frowns and stands defiantly. "You can't buy me. I'm telling the truth." GAME: Spike Witwicky PASSES an INTELLIGENCE roll of Very High difficulty. Spike Witwicky is willing to risk not only Carly's life, but his brother's for the chance for Cain to get a military-style aft kicking. "But he's a sadist and an animal! And the only way you're going to break him is if you beat..the..living...shit out of him! That's the only language he understands!" Spike says with an urgent tone. "He's not going to give up Goldbug for anyone!" SG-Lowdown shrugs slightly, "Suit yourself." The sound of powder being forcibly drawn through a very thin straw echoes through the dank brig. Spike Witwicky grits his teeth and his nose flares. Nope... not gonna do it. GAME: Spike Witwicky PASSES a COURAGE roll of Very High difficulty. SG-Lowdown draws in a deep breath through his teeth, holding it for a few moments. His voice sounds strained afterward, "Oh, man... that was worth the money..." Spike Witwicky looks at Lowdown and arches a brow. "Why would I even want your drugs? Maybe they're laced with detergent!" SG-Lowdown peers through the mirrored shades at Spike's cell, "Yeah, 'cause I just did a line of detergent. No wonder you're in there an' I'm out here." Spike Witwicky looks at Buster and shrugs. "You wanna do a line?" SG-Lowdown grins, "Don't mind if I do..." Spike may have noticed there were still four lines left, progressively larger, as Lowdown leans forward. And when he leans back up, there's only three. (Still, there's a pile of it remaining on the mirror.) Spike Witwicky frowns "Is this like supposed to test my willpower or something? Because I don't need a test. I know I'm strong." SG-Lowdown looks toward the cell, "Really?" His head tilts back down at the table, "Hell, I was gonna offer it as a reward for some /actual/ information." GAME: Spike Witwicky FAILS an INTELLIGENCE roll of High difficulty. "That IS actual information" Spike stresses. Buster Witwicky holds up a hand. "I'm good," he says, sounding disgusted. SG-Lowdown stands up, peering into the cell, "How 'bout you, Buster? Whadda you think? Think your brother's just trying to play us for chumps?" Spike Witwicky looks at Buster and raises his hands. "Oh yeah... I forgot - too good for the hard stuff." He frowns and crawls down to the white line. "Shuddup and gimmie the line." Buster Witwicky sighs. "To be honest, we don't know where the fuck Goldbug is. If we knew, don't you think we'd tell you? We're not gainin' nothing by holdin' out." SG-Lowdown is keeping it far beyond Spike's reach, "Nah, see, it doesn't work that way. Ya haven't told me anything new, Spike." He leans down and another line disappears. SG-Ebonyhas connected. Buster Witwicky is in the cell with Spike, watching as Lowdown taunts him. Spike Witwicky frowns and looks at Lowdown. "Damnit, I told you all I know!" SG-Lowdown is indeed taunting Spike. Trying to draw out more useful information. He's got what appears to be a few lines of cocaine on a table. The marks on the mirror show that there were five lines... but only 2 left. Lowdown looks at Spike, picking up the mirror, "That's a shame..." He takes the mirror over toward the nearest window and pops it open, blowing the rest of the powder into the wind... Buster Witwicky jumps up when Lowdown does that. "You fuckin' crazy?" he exclaims. SG-Lowdown looks over at Buster, tossing the mirror into the trash can across the room, "Yeah, a little. Why do you ask?" Buster Witwicky shakes his head. "Stuff's just expensive, man." SG-Lowdown grins broadly, his shades reflecting the door to the Witwicky cell as he steps closer, "Yeah, I know. Got it from some movie producer." Spike Witwicky gives a totally defeated look at Lowdown. "Damnit, that totally wasn't cool!" Buster Witwicky frowns and sits back down. SG-Lowdown chuckles, turning his head so his glasses reflect Spike's face, "Nah. What would be cool..." He pulls a small case from inside his jacket, popping it open, "Is getting rid of all /this/." Inside the case are three more plastic bags, a very clean syringe, and two vials of clear liquid. Spike Witwicky gulps and backs up. "No... NO! I'm not a fuckin' junkie!" SG-Lowdown snaps the case shut and slips it back inside his jacket, "Yeah, yeah. Keep tellin' the bugs under your skin." Lowdown lights up a fresh cigar and starts to head out, grabbing his rifle. Spike Witwicky frowns and looks at Buster. "Dude... we gotta get outta here!" SG-Temera has connected. SG-Lowdown has been enjoying himself, taunting Spike with promise of sweet, sweet drugs in exchange for information. But alas, Spike gets nothing. Nothing in this world is free. Especially not Hollywood-grade cocaine. Buster Witwicky sighs. "Guess that's the benefit of being on the government dole. You can waste good blow without a second thought." Spike Witwicky smirks darkly. "Just think... right now, Cain could be on the receiving in of the beating of his life." Buster Witwicky says, "Oh, boy. That sure helps us." Spike Witwicky shrugs and says "Well, look at the bright side, we don't have to worry about eviction anymore!" Spike Witwicky thinks aloud, "I wonder if that one girl captor likes it in the butt..." Buster Witwicky makes a face. Spike Witwicky frowns. "I even told her I didn't think she was going to hell. The Bible only says you're goin to hell if you're two dudes. God didn't say anything about two chicks doing it! And she bit my tongue and kicked me in the balls for that!" Buster Witwicky says, "What a surprise." He sounds disgusted. Spike Witwicky frowns "What? What's up your ass?" Spike Witwicky adds, "You realize I've told them they could kill me as long as you are released unharmed? That's what I'm willin' to fuckin' do for you, bro!" Buster Witwicky says, "Thanks a lot. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here to begin with." Then you wouldn't have to offer your noble sacrifice." He doesn't sound too grateful. Spike Witwicky shakes his head and gets up, pointing at Buster's chest. "NO - YOU were the one who told me to rip off that fuckin' car. Dude, I can't even remove a carborator, what would make me want to hotwire a new fucking car?! YOU egged ME on to steal that robot!" Buster Witwicky stands up as well, looming over his older brother. Spike Witwicky looks up at Buster. "You gonna cry?" Buster Witwicky says, "I'm going to break your fucking face if you don't shut it. I've had all I can take outta you." Buster Witwicky clenches his fists and glowers down at his brother. Spike Witwicky looks up at Buster, happy to egg him on. "Dad was right about you - at least I had a girl, you've been too much of a pussy to - " (*imagines Buster will strike at this point :D) Buster Witwicky says, "Yep!" Buster Witwicky swings, not letting Spike finish his taunt. >> Buster Witwicky misses Spike Witwicky with Punch. << Spike Witwicky ducks and laughs, HARD. (feel free to punch again) "Oh my GOD - no wonder I've always bailed you out!"" Buster Witwicky says, "That's it!" Buster Witwicky lashes out his foot with a kick at Spike's head. Spike Witwicky gestures at Buster. "C'mon...C'mon..." >> Buster Witwicky strikes Spike Witwicky with Kick. << Spike Witwicky winces and tumbles back, the ugly *smack* of a foot against, well, a head. Spike, in an odd turn, shields his head with one hand, cowering to Buster. Buster Witwicky's blood is boiling, as he stomps forward, smashing his fist at Spike's head again. >> Buster Witwicky strikes Spike Witwicky with Smash. << >> Spike is struck by Buster Witwicky's Smash for 277 damage. << Spike Witwicky tries to focus in on Buster, rattled by a kick. Then his head snaps back and down on the floor as Buster smashes Spike's face with a fist. He withers in pain. He cries out, "Stopstopstop!" Depending on Buster's pent-up rage - be it from years of torment or literally days in front of Spike - he may or may not heed that plea. Buster Witwicky is beyond pleas. He lifts his foot, bringing it down at Spike's cowering body. >> Buster Witwicky strikes Spike Witwicky with Stomp. << >> Spike is struck by Buster Witwicky's Stomp for 377 damage. << Spike Witwicky jerks spazzstically from the kicks to his already damaged ribs, he's still reeeling from Buster's hits to the face. He flails from Buster's stomping, too weakened to a.) put up a fight or b). plea for Buster to put a kabbash to his ass-kicking. Buster Witwicky lifts his foot again, but then sees how badly Spike is beaten and pauses. Spike Witwicky is totally crumpled below Buster's boot. Buster has officially taken his place as the alpha of the two. Spike Witwicky jerks his hand up at Buster Buster Witwicky screams with years of pent-up rage, "What was that, bitch? What?" Spike Witwicky coughs and says weakly, "Stop..." Spike Witwicky says the obvious. "Buster... it's me, Spike! We've been thorough too much ss..shit." Buster Witwicky screams, "I'm not taking any more of your shit anymore! You got that?! Got that?!" Spike Witwicky's right eye closes rapidly and a sick *crunch* could be heard, possibly showing a broken rib or three. He nods weakly. "Easy.. easy." Buster Witwicky screams himself hoarse, crazy and wild with abandon. However, he doesn't kick Spike again, and slowly lowers his foot. Spike Witwicky is still crumpled. A fairly generous pool of blood starts to seep through Spike's shirt to Buster's shoes. "Bussser...Buster... easy.." Buster Witwicky says, "EASY? SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Spike Witwicky nods and holds his hands up like a submissive pup. "Yeah.. yeah!" Spike Witwicky looks up, still crumpled up, weakly at Buster. "Easy lil' bro..." Buster Witwicky finally calms down, collapsing back into his cot, covered in sweat. Spike Witwicky's legs and arms finally give as he lies back in a pool of his own blood. Victim of a full-on aft kicking courtesy of Buster. Category:2010 Category:Logs